


Duck Moms are the Best Moms

by Dragonnova



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, except you don't get to see the actual hurting, gratuitous fluff, just the comfort bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonnova/pseuds/Dragonnova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux finds himself adopted by a new mom, whether he likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duck Moms are the Best Moms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aewin/gifts).



> Quick fic I wrote out in one night because Aewin deserves all the ducks and Captors. All of them. And all the hugs too.

There’s a small park not too far from your communal hivestem, it’s strangely lush with foliage and trees and a little pond full of terrible fish that will literally bite your foot off if you go to stick a toe in it. 

You know this because one just jumped _out_ of the water and grabbed a nutbeast and then wriggled and squirmed, dragging it back into the water where it devoured the tiny mammal whole.  _Nice_. It’s a regular Alternian Wild Kingdom episode out here.

Perhaps this is why nobody ever comes to useless places like this?  The Great Outdoors is not exactly the hangout spot any troll wants to be at any given hour.  It’s dangerous, all the time.  More so in the day light but still pretty nasty at night.

This is why you stay inside and never leave.  This is why KK always yells at you for not taking care of yourself - that utter, complete, insufferable asshat - because you never leave long enough to even get decent food to stock your thermal hull.

 You rub your nose, sniffling.  You must be allergic to the 'outside'; that’s what it is.  You’re also hideously uncomfortable with your back wedged up against the tree and your butt firmly planted in squishy wet mud.   You didn't pay attention to where you were going; you just flew.  You found the closest tree and huddled down in the mud and roots, surrounded by snarled bushes and the dank smell of stagnant pond scum.

You hate going outside, because there’s always this nagging little fear in the back of your mind that keeps you locked up in your hive.  Your block is the only place where you can freely believe in the lie that is security. Not that you couldn’t take care of yourself against attacks.  You could zap a threat so hard you’d leave a twelve foot crater where they stood if you wanted to.  There's just this, irrational fear that come with being exposed to nature without some kind of shelter.

You hate being out here. 

The sounds around you are prickling your ears, you can feel every sense become hyper alert to the point that it almost hurts. You’re seeing things out of the corner of your eye, hearing things, and every time you look there’s nothing there.  You must be crackling; you know you have sparks arching between your horns by now.  You can’t help it.  Every splash of water makes my bloodpusher race, every cracking twig and rustle of leaves makes your breath catch.

Your nerves are so fried.

You hate being outside. You hate feeling helpless, but you hate _what’s waiting_ for you back at your hive _even more_.

You just wanted to go someplace where he wouldn’t think to look for you - If he’d even _bother_ looking for you.

Perhaps that’s why parks exist.

It’s the only place you can go where someone else wouldn't bother looking for you, because it’s miserable and nobody would want to set foot there.

The water is stirring, and you catch the sound of a light flapping noise drawing closer.  When you lift your head to look, you feel the cold leeching into your skin due to something wet soaking through the denim of your jeans covering your knees.

A little white duck lusus is swimming closer, getting a good look at you, undoubtedly.  Probably trying to asses if you’re a threat, she’ll probably watch a moment and then move on.

She swims to the edge of the shore, wiggles her tail, shaking out her feathers, and quacks in your direction. 

You let out the breath you were holding, suddenly aware that you’re nose is stuffy, your eyes are sore, and your head is starting to hurt right behind the sockets.  Ugh, yuck, you were bawling like a wounded grub.  This is pathetic.

You wipe furiously at your eyes with the back of your hand and try to shove the feelings back down again.  For some reason the realization that you were crying threatens to make even more tears spill, and you’re fighting really hard just to keep it together.

The duck lusus waddles out of the water and up the slight incline of the shore, her feet slapping in the mud as she waddles up the embankment.  She quacks at you again when she reaches the grass.  She’s eyeing you, tilts her head to the side and eyes you again, watching intently.

You must be a real piece of work if you’re the best entertainment around here.

“Go away,” you say, but your voice cracks and you sound horrible.  Then you just give up and wrap your arms around your legs again, burying your face against your knees where your jeans can soak up more stupid tears.

You’re so useless.

Suddenly, you feel a tapping on your arm and you lift your head and look face to face with the duck.  She taps you with little beak nibbles a few more times, quacking at you. Then she looks up at you for a second before she shivers from head to webbed foot, ruffling her feathers, and then tilts her head downwards and scratches her neck with one foot.

“You can do that somewhere else, you know.  This tree trunk is claimed.  I’m trying to be a self-pitying miserable wreck right here.  You have the entire pond to scratch and fix your feathers,” you say, lifting your arm up and motioning towards the pond.

Duck mom took it as an invitation and climbed up onto your lap.  You sputter and try to push her back off but she neatly wedges herself between your legs and your chest and wraps her long neck over your shoulder and leans against your neck.

She’s doing her ducky damnedest to hug you.

You must have really been a sight if somebody else’s duck mom is taking pity on you.   You bury your nose in her soft feathers and wrapped your arms around her.  She nibbles at the nape of your neck and quietly quibbles at you when you start crying into her feathers.

~

It’s close to dawn now.  You've been out here for ages with duck mom.   You should go home; it’s dangerous being outside at night, it’s downright stupid to venture out in the day. 

You stand up, grimacing at the way your pants squelch from sitting in mud all night.  “Dang it, my butt feels numb and cold.  I could use a warm recuperacoon right about now. Plus it’s probably safe to go home now.  I think KK would have left by now.  That knock down drag out brawl we had early this evening probably sent him off for home the moment I absconded from _my own_ hive,” You tell duck mom.

You set duck mom down on the ground and she wiggles her tail feathers and looks up at you, quacks, turning her head to the side and looking up.

“You should go find your wiggler,” you say.

She reaches out and nibbles your pant leg.

“No, you should find _your_ wiggler.  You must have one somewhere,” you added, but she just sidled up closer and nibbled at your shoe lace.

She must have a wiggler somewhere; she’s too tame to _not_ have one.  Plus she came when you were crying like a stupid grub lost in the dark.  Unless maybe that’s it - perhaps she lost her grub.

You start to walk away, but she’s following you.  You stop and point back at the pond, “Go home, mom.”

She quacks at you, walks past you a few paces and turns around as though to say ‘well come on, son, we’re going home.”

“Hopy shiz, Ducky, I’m not your wiggler.”

She turns back and waddles up to you, wiggles her tail in that way you’re starting to find a little too endearing, and nibbles at your other pant leg.

You groan and pick her up, walking away and leaving the hideous park behind you.

~

“Daaaad, I’m hoooome,” you call out quietly when you open the door to your hive.  You really don’t want him to hear you.  “I brought you a wife.  You will be married and she will be my new mom.”

Duck mom quacks her approval.

“You guys can have weird two-headed duck babies and I’ll be the first troll in the neighborhood to have siblings.”

You suppose you’ll have to put out flyers asking if anyone lost their mom, but you’ll do that in the evening.  Right now the trap is calling you and then the recuperacoon.

 _Wait a minute_ – your hive is impeccably immaculate in cleanliness.

You smell a festering bunghole is still within your midst.

“And there he is.” You snarl when you walk past your communal rumpus block and catch sight of a giant grey foot slung over the back of my couch.  “Good gravy, Karkat, you have monstrously huge feet for such a tiny troll.”

You stare at his foot and blink slowly.

You did not just think about that meaning of what you just said.

A change of subject is in order. Yes.

“I see you helped yourself to my television and the carton of ice cream I had hoarded in the freezer - Jerk.”  He couldn’t hear you; he was sound asleep with one of his disgusting rom coms playing on your tube.

“I will ignore the smear on my existence for now, it’s not like I can throw him out in broad daylight, no matter how much of a douche-nozzle I think he is.  He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to wake him up and let him share my coon after all that, though,” you say to duck mom as you carry her to your respite block.

You set Duck Mom down in your block and she promptly waddles off to examine her surroundings.  You begin peeling the muddy clothes you’re wearing off and let them fall where they may as you head into the trap.

Duck Mom follows you in, quacking happily.

“No, Mom, get out,” you say and try to push her back out the door, but she flaps her wings and squeezes past you and flops into the trap, waiting for you to turn it on.

“Fine, but this is not going to be a habit,” you say and then turn on the tap.

Your trap is actually pretty big. You don’t like to take baths often, but when you do you had better have enough room that you can sink down into the water up to your chin.  Which you are… and mom is currently paddling around and quacking.

“What is this path my life has taken?  What is my purpose?”

You don’t care, duck mom is nibbling at your ear and it’s freakishly ticklish and you shall never admit to giggling stupidly until you inhale water and start gagging on it.

~

You pull on a really old baggy t-shirt and climb into one side of my recuperacoon, groaning appreciatively as the warm slime engulfs you.  You sink below the surface for a moment then pop your head back out, wiping the sopor from your eyes and glance down at duck mom.

 She’s waddling back and forth chatting at you.

“You can come in,” you call to her and she doesn’t hesitate any longer. 

She flaps her wings and lands in the coon next to you, paddling around until you find a comfortable spot and she can rest on your chest and lay her head over the side of the coon.

You fell asleep faster than you ever have while you held her close.

~

You’re not sure if you felt the air shift in the room from the door opening, or if maybe duck mom stirred and that woke you up, but you knew someone had come into your respite block.  It had to be KK.

Yes, duck mom is awake. You can feel her tense muscles just beneath her feathers.  She must be watching him.

“Sollux?”  KK whispers, he’s close, you can tell by the sound of his voice.  His whisper sounds loud and forced.

You continue to pretend to be asleep.  Duck mom, on the other hand, raises her head off the lip of the coon and glares daggers at KK - not that you can _see_ it, but you can feel it in the way she’s bracing herself.

“Hopy – shiz – w-where.! Uh… hi... um - Strange Lusus I don’t know,” KK says.

Duck mom hisses at him.

You smile.  You can’t help it; you know he can’t see you with your head that far below the edge of the recuperacoon, so it's fine.

“I just wanted to talk to him. Can’t I talk to him?”  KK asks, he sounds pathetic.

Duck mom hisses again and you feel her webbed feet plant firmly on your chest as she raises herself up out of the sopor and extends her wings.

“No seriously, I’m not going to hurt him, I swear! Shhhhhh, it’s okay!” KK is frantically trying to calm her down and the more he tries the angrier mom gets.

“ARGH! I’M TRYING TO TELL HIM I’M SORRY!!!”  Karkat is trying really hard to not raise his voice to wake you, but he’s failing miserably at it.

Plus he said he’s trying to apologize for his earlier douchiness.

You reach up and smooth your hand down Duck Mom’s feathers, soothing her until she settles down again.

“You unspeakable nook smear, you’ve been awake all this time,” Karkat literally growls at you.

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re standing in the middle of my respite block bellowing like a stupid hoofbeast?” you say.

“I AM NOT, YOU SICKENING ERUPTION ON THE ASS OF SOCIETY,” Karkat ‘bellows’, and you cannot help but poke your head up out of the sopor to peer over the lip of your coon at him.  He’s turning a lovely shade of red around the nose.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOO I’M A LOSER THAT CAN’T SAY ANYTHING WITHOUT MOOOOOING OBSENITIES AT YOUUUUUUUU.”  There. That should be the kick in the globes for him.

He’s advancing on your coon and duck mom goes into a frenzy.

“Could you please control your – your _\- stupid pet_ ,” Karkat’s voice drops to a civil level.

“Don’t talk smack about my mom,” you say.

“She’s not your mom, _**idiot**_ ; you have a lusus up on the roof! You can’t have TWO,” Karkat states.

“Says who?  I have two.  Stop me,” you shrug and lift your hand up out of the red sopor and flip him off.  He’s close enough that you flick some of it on his face.

He looks positively murderous and this pleases you greatly.

Duck mom hisses at him again before you were even able to catch the shift in his weight.  He would have lunged for you, but she had stopped him before he could make a move.

He stops dead still and stares at her.  Then he locks eyes with you and scowls beautifully.

Something tickles at the back of your mind, it’s clicking into place, ah – yes this makes sense.  KK is terrified of her.  You’re not sure why, but he’s too afraid to approach you while she’s there swimming around in your sopor like it’s her own personal duck pond.

Perhaps he’s afraid of ducks.

“She’s not going to eat you, KK,” you say.

“They bite,” he shoots back.

“Yeah, so, it’s not like it would HURT,” you reply.

“Says you,” he says.

“Hopy shiz, KK.  You have got to be kidding me.  You cannot be afraid of a little duck.  You’ve been around Biclops Dad and he could squish your head under his food like a friggin’ grape.”

“I AM NOT –“He stops mid yell and looks at mom, she’s got her head low and she’s hissing again, “N-not afraid of her. I just don’t like ducks; they bite your ankles and chase you.”

“That’s geese numb nuts,” you say.

Karkat goes even redder in the face.

“The big cluckbeast is afraid of a little quackbeast,” you taunt him until he’s trembling with rage. 

You start laughing hysterically at him, until duck mom swims over to you and you wrap your arms around her.  She curls her neck behind yours and rests her head there.  You keep laughing until you see KK get that look he very rarely gets.  It’s piteous.  Kind of like he’s so angry he’s on the verge of tears and that’s when you know you may have pushed it a bit too far with him.

He must have been chased by geese when he was a grub.  He’s honestly afraid of duck mom for some unknown reason you can’t begin to fathom.

“Fine,” you say and use one arm to lift yourself out of your coon, and sit on the edge.  You gently pet her feathers for a moment before you swing your legs over the side and slide to the floor.

You rummage about your stuff, gather a few old shirts you haven’t washed and make a small, soft pile out of them and set Duck mom down.  “Here sleep here, so you don’t drown in the sopor,” you say to her and she waddles around your feet a few times before she settles down in the pile.

You turn back to KK, “There, you happy? You don’t have to be afraid of her attacking you and drowning you during the day.”

“I said I wasn’t afraid of a stupid bird,” Karkat snarls and duck mom hisses back at him. “OKAY FINE.  YES.  THEY SCARE ME A LITTLE.”

“It’s okay, he’s my friend,” You say to her and pet her head.  This seems to calm her down enough that she begins to settle again. 

After a moment of you standing there dripping red sopor all over your floor, she finally tucks her head behind her wing and sighs.

You turn back around and float up to your coon and slip back into the sopor, it feels a lot warmer since the slime that had clung to you had cooled while you were out.

“If you’re getting in, get in.  I’m not asking you twice.” You turn your back to him and rest your head down on the arm you have slung over the side of your coon.

The sopor level of your recuperacoon rises slightly and you feel Karkat slipping in behind you.

“I have a second coon attached to this, you don’t HAVE TO GET IN H-“he cuts you off when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You heard duck mom quacking softly.  She must have been making sure you’re okay, and is now pleased with the outcome.

“Yeah,” you softly reply.  “It’s okay.”

A long silence fell over the two of you, and you start to wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Are we still friends?” he whispers.

You nod, and then realize he can’t see you nodding and instead you say, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then you twist around in his arms and wrap yours around him, “I’m sorry too.”

He just lazily nuzzles your neck and you realize that he _had_ just been waiting for you to ensure that the two of you are still friends before he fell sound asleep.

“Good grief, you are the biggest, most useless slug, I swear!” you groan.  You lift your head long enough to look at him and then bury your nose in his hair above his ear, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you prick.”  
  
He squeezes you tighter and you know he’s heard you.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually a bit nervous about posting a fic without taking the time to carefully go over it over a few days (then send it to a beta reader for checking). So I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Also you know what they say about the size of a troll's feet Eh? Eh? *NUDGE-NUDGE, WINK WONK*
> 
> Yeh, we'll judge it by his feet not his horns, hurrrr.


End file.
